


A Dialogue

by Nonsuch



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Complete, F/M, Gen, Humor, Post-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-10
Updated: 2012-06-10
Packaged: 2017-11-07 10:43:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/430190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonsuch/pseuds/Nonsuch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah is dreaming of working her way up the ladder at the studio. Jareth, meanwhile, would prefer for her dreams to focus on something else - him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Dialogue

**Author's Note:**

> I first posted this on fanfiction.net under my old username, Sapphire4Steel. I have since changed my name on that site to Nonsuch to match up with my username here. This version of 'A Dialogue' has been revised - and hopefully improved!
> 
> If you find this enjoyable or have any thoughts on it, please let me know!

A voice issued a sultry whisper to the air - “Be my Queen.”

In response to this, Sarah Williams stopped walking. Foamy water sloshed over the sides of the pail she was carrying. She glared up at the sky. “You’ve been asking every day since I was fifteen. It’s not alluring – it’s annoying. My answer is, and always will be, no. Sorry, but that’s the way it is.” She continued walking across the backlot, gripping the handle of the tin pail tightly in her fist.

“Care for a hand?” This time, the voice was tangible. Sarah quickly turned her head to see Jareth’s hand reaching for hers. She jerked it back instinctively, and the water in the pail was tossed into the air –

At this point, time stopped.

The water froze, becoming a shining, ragged edged patch of the sky. Very carefully, Sarah loosened her fingers from the handle. The bucket hovered a few feet above the ground. In the distance, Sarah could make out the lead from _Blue Moon_ \- one Trinny Starr - caught mid-way through the act of adjusting her flamingo pink bra strap. Her entourage trailed behind her, and Sarah smiled when she saw two of its members exchanging conspiratorial sniggers.

“I’m glad to see my little trick amuses you.”

“You don’t amuse me, she does” Sarah snorted in disgust. “She’s such a third rate. I can’t believe people pay to watch her.”

“I’m sure they don’t pay for her, it’s probably more the case that they pay to see what she does.” Sarah turned her head towards him slowly. Jareth was smiling in a very unwholesome way; in fact it was positively seedy. Sarah’s cheeks rapidly turned a brilliant shade of red. 

“Pervert.” She snapped. She gazed up at the clouds, which, like everything else, had stopped moving. Sarah couldn’t help but think it was strange that she found their stillness so noticeable - she hadn’t paid them the slightest bit of attention when they were mobile.

“Are you sure that accusation can be laid against me? It would appear your imagination is at fault, dear.”

“What? How the hell-” Sarah promptly stopped talking. Instead, she shouted “Don’t call me dear!” Sarah made a point of breathing heavily to disguise the fact her cheeks were red with embarrassment. Sarah was singularly aware that she was occupying a self contained world; a world whose only other inhabitant was a man with illogical hair and a deep affinity for the colour black. Sarah liked to forget Jareth had magic. To elaborate, she liked to ignore his powers. The knowledge that he was capable of manipulating time, deploying telepathy for mind-bending purposes and appearing before her at random and frequently inconvenient moments made her feel queasy.

He'd really put the dampers on her first date. Sarah winced as she remembered John. He had only endured five minutes of disembodied taunting before bailing.

Then there had been Toby’s second birthday. Once she had managed to gain some semblance of control, Sarah had sat the goblin invading force down on her bedroom floor and taught them two things. Firstly, that they did not make convincing cuddly toys. Secondly – and more importantly – that it was not okay to infest her underwear drawer. 

But her graduation ceremony had been the worst. The school principal had given her the weirdest look when he shook her hand. It wasn’t surprising - her whole body had been trembling. It was hard to remain composed with an invisible stalker exhaling over your neck. 

“Marry me, dear.” The proposal returned Sarah to the present. She lazily turned her head to look at Jareth. “There is nothing for you here but a life of drudgery.”

“No. There is plenty here for me. Don't you get it? I’m working my way up the ladder. Why do you want to marry me so much, anyway? I defeated you. You’re meant to hate me – be vengeful, or something. I know you rule over a dump but you must have money - your wardrobe is many things but it's not cheap. Money gets girls - you shouldn't have any trouble finding one.” She paused, scrutinizing him. He appeared entirely stoical, so she pressed on. “There are girls where you come from, right?” He looked disturbingly solemn. Sarah sounded more urgent when she repeated herself. “Right?”

“Why should I answer your question? You have failed to answer any of mine," he remarked, sounding doleful.

“No counts as answer – it may not be what you want to hear, but it counts. And will you please make everything normal again?” She inclined her head towards the suspended pail. “I’m starting to feel weird.”

“Whatever you wish.” Sarah returned her eyes towards where Jareth stood – he had vanished. His voice was followed by a loud, tinny crash as the pail dropped to the ground. 

“You could have given me a moment!” Sarah shrieked. Soapy water pooled around her feet and she took a few quick steps away.

Someone hollered at Sarah from another part of the lot. “Hey! What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

A few words bled into the air. No one heard them.

Sarah paused and took a deep, laboured breath. Trying to sound as bright and cheerful as was possible under the circumstances, she called back - “Yes!”

.

 

.

 

.

The head cleaner walked towards the direction of the reply. All she found was a dented, metal pail and a damp stretch of concrete. Sarah was nowhere to be seen.

If she had listened very, very carefully to the wind, she would have heard a soft voice mutter - “Oh shit.”


End file.
